


when was it that he bit into that apple?

by shannyan



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: First Time, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, PTSD, Self-Hatred, Touch-Starved, but then more hurt, kaneki trolling poor haise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 17:16:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19834894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shannyan/pseuds/shannyan
Summary: Between the company of a faceless copy and the lack of from his freshly adopted “family”, Sasaki looks to Arima for comfort. Unfortunate that a certain voice gets louder as the night progresses.





	when was it that he bit into that apple?

It was only after Sasaki finished making dinner that he realized there was no one to eat it. He blinked at the huge pot of curry and glanced at their dinner table. Empty. Huh.

The whole squad was away for a training camp, prepared by Mado. It was the first time he was separated from them for a full day. There was always someone home.. usually Saiko. But even she was pulled away, though it took a lot of coaxing. It’s good she’s out of the house though. She needs it. This camp will be good for all of them; it’s great for team building.

Tooru seemed to be dreading it a little, wary of how competitive it was, while Shirazu was ecstatic. Urie didn’t even say bye to him.

...Sasaki wished he could have come along. Tooru had asked him to, perhaps to chaperone, or maybe even assist in the training. But he wasn’t granted leave, and they didn’t need him there. The only one who needed this was him.

Needed it.. did he need that? Would that make him feel better?

He’d never been alone in the house overnight. He didn’t move in until the squad had. The large house was intimidating and.. lonely. In his short memory, he never lived alone. He lived in the hospital for a while, then with Arima, then in the CCG housing building. Living with Arima had been his favorite, though it didn’t include much living. Arima only came home late into the night, just to sleep. Sasaki would find excuses to stay at work until then so they could go home together and so he wouldn’t be alone. Perhaps it sounds unpleasant, but Arima was his favorite company.

He looked down at the pot still in his hands and realized it was slowly burning him. His hands sizzled sickeningly once he put it down, skin raw and angry. The irony that he was the only one who cooked in their household despite not being to eat.. was not lost on him. He learned to cook during his time with Arima. His poor eating habits appalled Sasaki when he first came; he regularly skipped breakfast, would eat something fast in the cafeteria, and then eat instant food late nights before going to bed. It’s ridiculous how fit he is when he eats like garbage.

Collapsing on the living room couch, he sighed loudly, feeling it echo. There was a tickle of hair on the back of his neck, a smile pressed into his skin, pressure on his shoulders. It’d been there for a while, breath cold against his skin, but he was usually successful in ignoring it. Usually. He clenched his hands into fists, dug his nails into the still wounded flesh, but the pain didn’t come. He couldn’t feel anything, besides _him_.

His own breath caught, fright cold in his chest, but his body relaxed into it. His eyes drifted closed. There was no point in being here… why not rest…

He forced his eyes open and blinked back tears. Being alone tonight was unfathomable. His social circle was laughably small, almost everyone he knew was away. Almost everyone.

There was only a moment of hesitation before he pulled out his phone.

“Hey Arima, i made too much food xp can i drop some off?”

He glanced at the clock. Arima’s always so busy, he might not even read his text until midnight. He sighed, fiddled with his fingers. His breathing was too loud. The house was so big and yet he felt like he was using up all the air. He turned on a random song on his phone. Flipped through some games. The screen hurt his eyes and he turned his phone off. _“Haise Haise HAISE—“_

He practically dove for his phone when he heard it vibrate, and nearly cried when he saw it was Arima. He’s never gotten an answer from him so fast.

“Of course.”

He smiled at his phone and answered immediately, not caring if it made him look desperate. “Is now ok? are u home?”

Calmer now, he changed into a pair of clothes that didn’t smell like food and fixed up his hair. Or was that weird? He ruffled it up again.

His phone buzzed again and he was overwhelmed with gratitude. “Yes.”

—-

  
He had a key (Arima never asked for it back and Sasaki just… wanted to hold on to it) but he knocked anyway, oddly nervous.

The door opened immediately, and Sasaki wanted to think it was because Arima was waiting for him. His chest got tight when he saw him and he quickly looked down. As intimidating as he was, his face was still kind and familiar. “Still in your work clothes, wow, haha.”

“It’s comfortable enough. Come in.” Arima moved aside, holding the door for him.

Stepping inside, he felt his shoulders finally drop. It was like.. returning to his childhood home. It’s not like he never visited since leaving, but the visits were always brief, formal, and rare; Sasaki always found himself compensating for how bad he was at their job and he never had the heart to visit just because he missed him. But he did. He could feel the past loneliness slipping off him, like an old skin.

Arima’s apartment was warm. The smaller space put Sasaki more at ease; his house made him feel swallowed whole, while Arima’s was more of a loose embrace. “How was work today?” he asked, taking his shoes off.

Arima glanced down and exhaled a chuckle. “Uneventful. I like your socks.”

He blinked and looked down. Bananas. “Ah, haha, it’s a gift from Saiko.” he admitted sheepishly. “I’ve been putting off laundry.”

“Breaking the dress code. How daring.” He took the tupperware from his hands and guided him to the living room. He was cautious to touch his hand, grabbing it at a weird angle, but Sasaki tried not to dwell on it.

“Don’t rat me out!” He stopped in front of the bookcase, checking for any new additions. Surprisingly few. Did Arima only read what Sasaki brought him? It’s probably a testament to how busy Arima was, but despite himself, Sasaki felt a little happy about it. The books they shared were _their_ thing.

“I’m glad you’ve come. I have a book to return to you.” Arima offered, noticing his line of sight. He easily located it on the shelf and handed it to him. Once again, Sasaki couldn’t help but notice how careful he was not to make physical contact. Cold hands touched the insides of his wrists, ghosted over where he might’ve been touched by Arima. He willed his body not to shudder.

“..Ah I’m glad you finished it, I have a new one for you.” He blinked. “Wait, where are you even finding time to read though?”

Arima smiled. “It’s funny you say that. I was recently reprimanded for reading on the job.”

Sasaki gaped at him. “I can’t imagine you letting your guard down like that. Or someone lecturing you.”

“It was a very interesting read, in my defense. Hirako didn’t understand though.” He shrugged and started towards the kitchen.

Sasaki followed, going straight for the stove, but Arima blocked his path. “You brought the food. I can at least prepare it.”

Sasaki paused, then awkwardly sat down. “..Oh, haha, habit. The Qs really do get spoiled by me, huh.”

Arima gave him a onceover. “Make sure you don’t exhaust yourself.”

“Ahaha.. It doesn’t bother me though..! I really do have a mother-hen-type personality.. Even more so tonight, when all the kids fled the coop.. haha.” He wrung his hands in his lap, hoping he didn’t sound as ridiculous as he felt.

“Hm, I know what you mean. I found my routine to be interrupted when you initially left.”

What an awful thing to get happy over. “Woah, really? Like what?”

Arima cocked his head to the side. “My fridge was empty for a week because I had grown accustomed to you buying groceries. I grew more careless in packing lunches as well.”

“Don’t I sound like the mom in that situation?” He laughed and bit his lip, trying to envision Arima alone at night, checking an empty fridge. Would he have been lonely? Did he even feel things like that?

The house was so.. unlived in. How lonesome, to show little to no sign of company. Arima could probably up and leave within a night… wow, is he really relating to an apartment right now??

Being back here made him feel weird. Younger. Which was silly, because it was just a year ago. But the Sasaki from before was simpler.. more kind.. more innocent. Nowadays, he felt like it was just a front. He wondered if Arima could tell the difference. He wondered when it was exactly that he bit into that apple.

Once heated up, the smell of food flooded the kitchen. It honestly smelled awful to Sasaki, but nobody knew that, and he sure as hell would never bring it up. He was scared people would insist that he not put himself through that and not allow him to sit with them as they ate.  
  
He watched Arima’s back, his swift, purposeful movements, completely unaffected by Sasaki’s gaze. Always the pragmatist, he didn’t even bother transferring the food to a dish, setting the entire pot down on the table to eat out of.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had your cooking.”

Sasaki smiled sheepishly. “It’s changed a lot. My squad is very… vocal about their preferences.”

Arima smiled back warmly at him and began eating. Sasaki let him eat in silence, not wanting to bring attention to the fact that he couldn’t eat with him. He used to feel bad, just sitting around watching Arima eat, but the man never complained or showed discomfort. He once suggested that Sasaki eat with him, but Sasaki hastily declined, ashamed to be so clearly different. Any reference to being a ghoul made him clam up, ashamed and disgusted in himself.

When Sasaki did eat, it was always alone, and quickly. Enjoying the taste of… human meat felt perverse. He’d eat human food, no matter the taste, if only his body could take it. He’s tried. A number of times. And it wasn’t the putrid taste, the later painful vomiting, that hurt him. It was the fact that he could never be normal.

“...How is it?” he asked after a small bit, tired of being stuck in his own head.

Sasaki seldom asked him if he liked his cooking, a little scared to hear his reply, and guilty to force conversation. But tonight he was feeling lonely and insecure. At least more than he usually felt.

Arima noticed the change too, one brow slightly raised. “Delicious, as always.”

Sasaki smiled half heartedly. “Would you say if it wasn’t?”

Arima set down his fork and leaned back, apprehensive. “Do you think I’m overly polite?”

Sasaki’s face scrunched up and he sighed. Fuck, he really can’t even be normal for one day, can he? “...No.. ugh, I’m sorry, I— I’m a little out of it today, I should probably go..”

Sometimes Arima would look at him in a way that made his stomach churn. It’s why he subconsciously started calling him father.

Like he looked so pitiful. “It’s gotten late. Would you like to stay over?”

It was almost comical how quickly he perked up. “..Oh, uh.. it’s.. no bother?”

“I still have your futon.” Something about that made Sasaki want to smile. Maybe the fact that he kept it despite seldom having company, or that it was considered his instead of just a spare.

“That’s very kind of you…”

He probably made good money, being the world’s greatest ghoul investigator, but his apartment was tiny. Lightly furnished, though it was even less so before Sasaki came. Arima had him pick out a couch, which, to this day, remained in the same spot they first put it. The only rooms were his bedroom and kitchen. They had shared the bedroom before, which Sasaki didn’t even think twice about. But now he hesitated.

However, in hindsight… Arima had acted a little odd. There wasn’t a single instance where he slept before Sasaki.. as if he waited for him to fall asleep first. He originally read it as doting. Now he was doubting that.

“Haise, is it back?”

He blinked and looked down. Embarrassment struck him when he realized his eyes were burning. Fuck, please don’t cry, not here, not now. “For.. a little bit…”

“It seems to be happening more frequently now.” he noted impassively. “Do you have a theory why?”

Because he couldn’t live with himself, probably.“....No.. I think it’s up to him, haha..” Because he lost his ability to be a normal fucking person when he lost his memories.

“But I’ve been wondering.. why exactly… am I denying him…” Sasaki shivered and rubbed his chin with the back of his hand. “I’m happy like this.. I want to be here… But is that.. really a reason?”

Arima’s cool, almost unresponsive gaze made him both want to start and stop crying. “If you want to be here, you should stay. That’s the only reason you need. You would be missed if you were gone.”

Would you miss me? He bit his tongue. _(“Haise Haise Haise.”)_ “I don’t think.. I really help the squad. I think—“ His voice cracked and he cringed at himself. “..That I need them more than they need me.”

He always wanted Arima’s attention, but now it made him squirm. “What makes you think that?”

“Because… I mean, I couldn’t even be alone for one night! I’m so… empty inside..”

Tears started welling up in his eyes and he went to wipe them but Arima sharply grabbed his wrist, eyes narrow. He released him just as quickly, wiping his eyes for him with the corner of his sleeve. “...You’re more cherished than you realize. What would I do without my quinque?”

He wished he could appreciate Arima’s attempt to comfort him, but it instead made him feel like a petulant child. After all, Arima wouldn’t even say something simple, like “I need you”. And Sasaki shouldn’t expect that— because it’s not true! Assuring him that he was useful only made him feel worse, because he knew he wasn’t. Everyone knew about his reluctance to kill ghouls, even though it’s his damn job— Arima was especially aware.

“I’m not— stupid! I know that they’re… using me… I know we’re not a family.. They all have families— memories, friends! I can’t fill those holes they have… I can’t replace their parents.. I can’t even be a good parent..” How could he when he didn’t even remember his parents? All he had was a made up name, belonging to nothing, derived from nothing, no family, no background.

Sasaki could only remember their faces as irritated, tired, blank. Urie and Shirazu were excited to leave and train, and Tooru and Saiko’s reluctance stemmed from a fear of new and uncomfortable situations. They weren’t so broken as to miss Sasaki after being apart for a few days— he wasn’t sure if they’d even miss him, ever. Couldn’t they see how pathetic he was? It leaked into everything he did; his wavering voice, his unsure smile, his rigid back, his shaking, hesitant hands. Like a kicked dog, trailing after people despite its limp. He _reeked_ of loneliness. It was so pathetic he’d rather stay at home forever so no one would ever look at him, but the loneliness made him shameless.

“I shouldn’t be trying to fix their lives, I know I’m not enough, but if I don’t—if I don’t..” Tears were falling freely now, directly from his eyes to the floor because his head was hung so low. He was ridiculous, childish— Arima was kind enough to invite him to stay, and here he was, inconveniencing him. “What am I here for… if I can’t do that..?”

Slowly, as if handling glass, he felt Arima’s hand slide around the back of his neck and carefully guided him to his chest. He gratefully buried his face there, probably soaking his shirt. “Arima..” he mumbled, or tried to, though that too was soaked up into his front. Being denied even slight touches made him subconsciously crave it, and so there was so much relief in just… being hugged. He felt accepted, almost.. forgiven. He didn’t know what for.

Arima rubbed small circles into the back of his neck. “They’ve ended up at the CCG because their families have failed them. They need you to lead them. You wouldn’t have been assigned a squad if you weren’t capable of doing it.”

“But—“

“I signed off on it. I believe in you.”

Sasaki grabbed big handfuls of his shirt, clinging. “I don’t.. deserve that trust..”

“Your desire to help them is very.. noble. Those kids don’t have anyone that cares about them. They may not understand why you do, but I know they must appreciate it. You’re a very… kind.. and gentle person, Haise.”

Hearing praise from Arima was so shocking and unbelievable that it stunned Sasaki out of crying. He pulled back a little to peek up at him, but his glasses blocked his eyes at this angle.

He pressed his face into his neck and inhaled deeply. Arima smelled like a type of flower he couldn’t recall the name of.. It made his eyes burn, but not in a crying kind of way. He ignored it and nuzzled against him, absolutely touch starved. “Thank you… I’m sorry..”

He felt Arima stiffen when his lips moved against his skin and responded by clinging tighter, scared he’d pull away. He could swear Arima felt warmer. He said nothing, but Sasaki could feel him cringing away. It was almost a kiss, Sasaki realized. He wet his lips nervously. “Arima..” And then he was abruptly pulled off of him.

Arima’s face was red, lips pressed in a tight line. He cleared his throat. “....It’s fine. I think you should go to sleep.” He scrubbed his neck, which was wet with Sasaki’s tears, the gesture almost.. embarrassed.

Sasaki reached for him and he backed away. He frowned and took another step, and Arima followed behind. “...Arima?”

He pushed his glasses up his nose, the reflection on them hiding his eyes. “.....Sasaki.”

“Are you..—“

“Leave it.”

“...Why?”

He didn’t answer, instead slowly retreated backwards. Sasaki felt like if he let him leave, they’d never be able to talk about this. “Arima, am I.. disgusting you..?”

He didn’t answer, didn’t look at him, looking a little cornered if not completely aloof.

“I tell you everything.. can’t you tell me what you’re thinking? At least about me?” He took another step towards him, hurt as he too stepped back.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel..” Sometimes, Arima was like a god to him. An angel, a father, a reaper. But above all, definitely a god. And Sasaki sure was god fearing.

While Arima’s approval was rare to gauge and even rarer to have, his disapproval was palpable. The rejection hit sharply. “When you look at me… do you see a ghoul?”

Arima breathed through his nose. “It’s not a part of you I believe needs to be ignored.”

His caution, his sharp eyes, his careful distance.. “You hate ghouls… don’t you? Always… killing, without mercy.. if you could, wouldn’t you kill them all? Wouldn’t I be a part of that?”

Now Arima visibly reacted, eyes going wide for just a moment, and then he looked down, bangs covering his eyes.

“....Everything I do… I do for a greater good. The world would be a worse place without you in it.” Arima’s eyes darted to the door, intentions obvious

  
Sasaki would need time to think about that, to conjure the faces of all the ghouls they’ve ever faced, and whether or not their deaths were necessary, but the last thing Arima said made his breath catch. “How can you say that.. confidently?

The cruel part of Sasaki knew Arima was trying to distract him, but the desperate part of him couldn’t care less.

Arima’s adam’s apple visibly bobbed, his jaw clenching. He looked like he was trying to navigate this, calculating an escape route, a rode to victory. Sasaki should stop when he’s making him so uncomfortable, it’s so _unlike_ him, but fuck why does his mere touch trigger this kind of response?? “You’re a good person, Haise—“

“Why can’t I touch you? I want to—… I want…” Distraction. Validation. Companionship. Normalcy. He stepped towards him, but Arima was against the wall already; he’d have to cross Sasaki if he wanted to leave. “I want you..”

He closed his eyes, weary from how much he already cried, not wanting to see Arima’s reaction, his rejection. It was only when he felt a soft breath against the top of his head that he opened his eyes, find Arima only inches away from him.

Sasaki always had to crane his neck, just a little, to continue eye contact. Arima was tall. He used to seem massive to Sasaki, immeasurably large, whether it be his strength or physical size.

Sasaki almost flinched when Arima raised a hand, finally completely crossing over. His fingers carded through his hair, making Sasaki’s breath catch in his throat. A painful sense of deja-vu.. fingers in his hair.. clutching… _dragging_ —

Arima seemed to somehow read what he was thinking and quickly moved his touch down. Shockingly delicately, he touched the side of the shorter man’s neck, light, careful. His hands— they’re not as big as Sasaki remembers them. He thought—felt like he could wrap just one around his neck, reach all the way around.

Was it admiration? Fear? It was so impossible, being here with him, being touched, being looked at like that… It was hard to read his face, as his expressions never ventured far from his resting face. But he looked sad.. reverent. Sasaki pulled away, throat tight.

“If this is.. if you’re… pitying me…”

Arima shushed him and gently nudged his face to the side, which Sasaki complied to much too dociely, like obedience was ingrained into him. He opened his mouth but only a gasp left him when lips gently pressed beneath his ear. He shivered and stiffened, hands clenched to his sides. He wanted to touch him, to push or pull, but he was scared to interrupt this. Whatever this was.

One of Arima’s hands reached back to hold him, starting between his shoulder blades and slowly dragging down. He whimpered when his hand stilled at his lower back, rubbing almost coaxingly where his kakugan was. He shivered again, boneless, dizzy, his slight sway encouraging Arima to pull him flush against him. He inhaled deeply, soothed by the familiar scent of flowers. Arima had to slouch to reach him, the hovering teetering between intimidating and comforting. He felt trapped beneath him, but not necessarily in a bad way. It felt right. Like his earliest memories, when Arima was the only one he ever knew. He tipped his head back, giving Arima more space to continue. He’d.. be happy if Arima could return him to a state like that— focused only on him. He was close already.

It was so vulnerable, letting Arima near his neck. He could kill him in literally a second if he wanted to. The thought made his skin prickle but it made the kisses feel even better against his oversensitive skin. He cried out at the feel of teeth, shoulders jerking upwards.

A mumbled moan slipped out of him when Arima found a particularly sensitive spot, right above his pulse. He sealed his mouth and sucked bruisingly hard, and Sasaki couldn’t help but finally reach out and grab him by his hair. He hugged him closer, exhaling shakily, getting to see how that lightly blew the hair at the very top of his head. He’s never been so close to someone in his life.

“Interesting.. so ghouls don’t get hickies” He pulled away with a slight smile, watching how Sasaki’s skin instantly healed. He stupidly looked down, to check, before realizing he wouldn’t be able to see.

“We’ll.. have to try again on a day I forgo lunch.”

Arima smiles at him affectionately(?) before leaning down and finally kissing him. Sasaki was startled by how soft it was— the pressure, the thin skin of his lips, the gesture itself— so much so that it took a moment for him to respond. He didn’t open his mouth until prompted, needing Arima to decide and guide. His eyes fell shut and he sunk into it, gently beckoning Arima closer with a soft curl of his fingers at the base of his neck. Arima kissed him like he was precious, fragile, like he’d be scared off if he moved too suddenly. The slide of his hands was gradual, the kiss almost frustratingly slow, even his breathing was steady and regular. Sasaki huffed against his lips and gave a small wiggle. He felt Arima smile against him before taking the hint and deepening the kiss, suddenly licking into his mouth.

Simple touches made him both stiffen and relax, his body torn on how to feel. He was unaccustomed to touch, too solitary and withdrawn to receive it often, but he desperately wanted it, to the point where anything bordered on too much. Things didn’t even need to escalate— just having Arima’s hands on him was enough. Almost unreal. He was taken by surprise as his hand drew lower and lower, touch light and gentle. Too gentle. He felt his eyes water, teeny tiny tears squeezing out from the corners. He usually didn’t allow himself to think about it, but he wanted this so so bad. He _was_ fragile, he _was_ weary, he _needed_ this. This kindness. Tenderness.

He glanced up at him with uncertainty and was held there when he saw the look in Arima’s eyes. Unrelenting, intense, concentrating like Sasaki has never seen before. When he fought, his eyes were distant, as if he didn’t even need them. It frustrated Sasaki during their spars— like he wasn’t good enough to warrant his 100%. He did now though. Oh he sure fucking did, with those calculating eyes trained on him, on his every move. Sasaki wondered what he saw, what he was thinking. He leaned down and resumed kissing him, unrelenting. His grip on Sasaki’s shoulders made him unable to pull away, even as he rapidly grew breathless. Sasaki realized, with a mixture of giddiness and surprise, that Arima’s self control was slowly deteriorating, his breathing growing erratic, his touches unpredictable, his kissing bordering frantic. Sasaki tried to turn his head to the side, to catch a breath, but was turned right back to Arima. It was like they were running out of time.

He strained to get even closer and gasped into Arima’s mouth when he felt his erection against his belly, through his pants. He had.. admittedly.. fantasized about this before, about being with him, intimate, but it never went beyond kisses and cuddles. Not that Sasaki was vanilla— okay yeah he was, but it was mainly because what he wanted out of the intimacy was feeling needed. Loved. He wanted to be held, comforted, taken care of… like before.

He should’ve felt guilty for how much he dehumanized him, how little he expected from him. The clear expression of need, desire made Sasaki’s heart flutter and throat tighten. It felt good, making someone so great, so admired, act like this. Want him like this. He didn’t feel deserving.

He was so pathetic, so weak-willed, so lost— what did Arima see when he looked at him?

He reached down between them (a tight squeeze) to lightly run his hand over Arima’s erection, and he immediately reacted, accidentally nipping Sasaki’s bottom lip. He licked at it as an apology, making Sasaki smile against him. He touched him again, harder, and felt him grunt against his mouth. He was startled by his intense desire to please, the pleasure it brought him merely from giving.

Encouraged, he unbuttoned his pants and rubbed his front, his underwear the only barrier. Arima broke away from his lips to scrunch his eyes tight and take a deep, shaky breath. Okay, Sasaki understood the appeal of staring now. It’s hard not to. He traced the outline of him, touch light and fretful, causing a minute twitch of Arima’s hips. Spurred by the small display of lost control, he finally touched him skin on skin, shivering at how hot he was in his hand. He rubbed up and down curiously, grip tightening as he grew more confident. He couldn’t make himself decide on whether to look up or down so his eyes constantly flickered between Arima’s face and dick, both getting a reaction out of him. He makes an aborted attempt to cover his mouth, smother the small gasps he couldn’t hold down, but Sasaki grabbed his hand with his free one, locking eyes with him. His were embarrassingly pleading, but it did the job, and Arima’s hand dropped. The back of his eyes itched again, but he was feeling too many things to pay it mind.

Arima’s head fell to rest on his shoulder, close enough that Sasaki could hear all the ways his breath stopped and quickened. Rather than stroke, his hands were now clinging to Sasaki, and he could feel his kakugan gently poke out from beneath his skin— it wasn’t going to completely sprout out, but just responding to the insistent touch. It was surprisingly pleasant to have it touched, the nerves there particularly sensitive.

He was entranced by how he could manipulate Arima’s breath just by touch. The tip was leaking, which felt embarrassingly lewd to Sasaki. He’d be too embarrassed to continue touching him like this if he wasn’t already unbearably turned on. He nuzzled his way past Arima’s hair to kiss his neck this time, pleased to hear his breath stutter.

Sasaki’s name fell from Arima’s lips, strained and soft, and his hips canted up into Sasaki’s grip, his dick throbbing when he squeezed in surprise. Still, Sasaki didn’t expect it when he came, shuddering and letting out one brief, choked moan, hidden against Sasaki’s skin.

Arima caught his breath quickly, peeking his head out to grimace. Sasaki followed his gaze and let out a small laugh when he saw the cum all over his front. “Can I use your washing machine later?”

Sasaki could’ve sworn he caught the other man pout, just a little, but the thought completely left his mind when he felt a hand at his groin. Oh yeah. He honestly completely forgot. One hand slipping down his pants, the other still circling where his kakugan would be, so that he was trapped.

He felt dizzy, and hot, and wanted, happy— A different person’s touch felt so good, better than he’d ever felt before. Suddenly weak knee-d, he heavily leaned into him, gasping. His touch was just under overstimulating, Arima working a gradual pace out of consideration, but still, all that contact all over made his head spin. All the hair on his body stood on end, his hands clammy, his face down to his chest flushed a deep red. His labored breathing was shameless, mouth open and wet against Arima’s chest, where he once again burrowed. He couldn’t stop the needy twitches of his hips if he tried, body demanding more more more.

Arima’s touches were so— embarrassing, like his body was being mapped out, memorized. He touched with so much intention, tracing the throbbing veins in his dick, the swollen head, the taunt flesh of the underside. It all felt so.. exposing, but in a liberating way, an accepting way, where his self deprecating thoughts couldn’t connect with his emotions. All he felt was giddiness, anticipation. His eyes stung again, more insistent this time, and so he closed them, not wanting, not ready for— (Haise Ha—)

He shook his head against him, and Arima must have picked up on his franticness because he let go of him to hold both of his shoulders, gently tipping him back. “Sasaki?”

He grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes tight, tighter, feeling a hysteria rise in him, as the pain too increased. These attacks, they were never— never like this, so painful. His whole body went hot instead of cold, losing feeling in his limbs as his brain zeroed in on that sizzling ache in a spot he’d never felt before—

The pain was suddenly searing and he broke away from Arima, clutching his head. “Ahhh— ah—“ He dropped to his knees, or he was going to, but Arima caught him by his forearms and dragged him up. “Sasaki??”

Sasaki couldn’t even hear him, his ears ringing painfully loud, accompanied by that accursed _Haise Haise Haisehaisehaise—_

“Nooo…” he moaned, shaking his head back in forth desperately, hands spreading to cover his ears along with his eyes. The pain spread to the back of his head now, piercing straight through him like a stab wound. Arima’s hands on his arms suddenly burned and he jerked away, slamming too hard against the wall and crumpling down to ducking his head into his knees. He tried, meant to call for help, but he could only babble, weird nonsensical things he couldn’t even hear himself say. He squinted at Arima desperately despite the pain and could blurrily see a look of panic and fear— but then having his eyes open was too painful and he had to squeeze them shut. He felt like he was bleeding, god, it hurts so bad— he could feel something digging in there—

He clawed at his eyes, trying to pull whatever it was out— and then there was a painful grasp on both his wrists, slamming them down to the floor, bringing his ragged body down with it— he just barely caught himself on his knees, in a bowing position now. He cracked his eyes open for just a second, all he could bear, and the sight of Arima there.. taking up his entire field of view, blocking the light.. massive, powerful..

He felt like he was bowing before a god. He sobbed, let his head hang, and then _he_ finally came, blanketing his back, arms wrapping around his chest. Lips against his ear, drawn into a smile, breath hot and chilling. Sasaki leaned back into his hold, desperate for support, despite how it worsened the pain. Futile, he weakly tried to withdraw his hands, but that white hot iron grip was unrelenting.

Arima was talking to him, voice hitting a register Sasaki had never heard from him before, and yet it wasn’t loud enough to reach him, not between his and _his_ heavy breaths.

“Don’t get too close”

**Author's Note:**

> yah so i’ve always loved the idea of kaneki trying to protect haise from arima cos he KNOWS they’ll have to fight one day!!


End file.
